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House and related errata...
Oct. 14th, 2010 09:58 amIt's official: we have house. It's also official: we must fix up said house and move into it by October 31. Which is worth it, because, officially, this means the end of the 8:30 to 9:30 daily leafblowing activities.
Hallelujah. Also, no stairs. Serious hallelujah, no matter how much I hate moving.
This does, however, raise the total of major/lifechanging events in the next 30 days to a grand total of four. Which means – fair warning – that I am very likely to be frequently out of it. I admit that many of you will probably not be able to tell the difference from my usual mental state.
Also, this is a bit different from my usual moves, where I've headed to rentals which have already been fixed up and painted and carpeted for me. In this case, I spent a portion of yesterday staring at an AC vent that had probably not been cleaned since 1982 (when it was installed), so filthy that we could literally not tell how it was attached, and how to remove it without damaging the wall. It's one of the few cases I can think of where something's had to be cleaned before it can be tossed out.
In very vivid dreams last night, I dreamed that Coral Springs (Coral Springs? No idea why that town came into my mind) had been transformed into some great post apocalyptic nightmare city, complete with a vast ruined cathedral that I was assured they were trying to rebuild, all this as an Easter parade was coming through. That wasn't actually the main point of the dream, but it was a stunning image (except for the irrelevant bits about the Easter Bunny). Dirt. Lots of dirt – and then I swung my head to see shining clean buildings and no Easter Bunny. Not subtle, subconscious. (Remarkably, that wasn't the main point of the dream here either.)
Also, naturally now that I should be doing other things, all kinds of blog posts are springing up in my head – about bullying, about returning to possessions you haven't seen in awhile, about the frequent gap between author intention and reader reception (based on a review of Sparks which showed that I what I thought I was writing about and what the reviewer thought I was writing about were two entirely different things; it's always good if jolting to remember that readers bring something different than writers do to a tale). Alas, priorities. Priorities. Not one of my stronger points, this following priorities thing, but I probably should start getting to that now.
Hallelujah. Also, no stairs. Serious hallelujah, no matter how much I hate moving.
This does, however, raise the total of major/lifechanging events in the next 30 days to a grand total of four. Which means – fair warning – that I am very likely to be frequently out of it. I admit that many of you will probably not be able to tell the difference from my usual mental state.
Also, this is a bit different from my usual moves, where I've headed to rentals which have already been fixed up and painted and carpeted for me. In this case, I spent a portion of yesterday staring at an AC vent that had probably not been cleaned since 1982 (when it was installed), so filthy that we could literally not tell how it was attached, and how to remove it without damaging the wall. It's one of the few cases I can think of where something's had to be cleaned before it can be tossed out.
In very vivid dreams last night, I dreamed that Coral Springs (Coral Springs? No idea why that town came into my mind) had been transformed into some great post apocalyptic nightmare city, complete with a vast ruined cathedral that I was assured they were trying to rebuild, all this as an Easter parade was coming through. That wasn't actually the main point of the dream, but it was a stunning image (except for the irrelevant bits about the Easter Bunny). Dirt. Lots of dirt – and then I swung my head to see shining clean buildings and no Easter Bunny. Not subtle, subconscious. (Remarkably, that wasn't the main point of the dream here either.)
Also, naturally now that I should be doing other things, all kinds of blog posts are springing up in my head – about bullying, about returning to possessions you haven't seen in awhile, about the frequent gap between author intention and reader reception (based on a review of Sparks which showed that I what I thought I was writing about and what the reviewer thought I was writing about were two entirely different things; it's always good if jolting to remember that readers bring something different than writers do to a tale). Alas, priorities. Priorities. Not one of my stronger points, this following priorities thing, but I probably should start getting to that now.